Promises
by Nonexistent place
Summary: SEQUEL to Lily flowers and Eternity. Time passed, people could change dramatically in short amounts of time, but a promise never faded. Through life and death, they always somehow found each other but would it last or were the Fates going to come between them again? While life adjusts itself again, an old threat looms in the distance.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **this is the SEQUEL to Lily flowers and Eternity. This story will make a lot more sense if you've read the first story. I won't be posting again for two weeks but once I do updates will be weekly. Feel free to review, I always like hearing from readers.

Enjoy :)

"_Do you think that one day, maybe, this will all be over and we'll live somewhere far away by the ocean and be happy until we die old and wrinkled and senseless?"_

_The blade of grass was smooth between his fingers and he grinned lightly, looking into a face so familiar, eyes filled with a hope they didn't really believe. "Of course." He said. "We'll grow old and reminisce on our travels and argue about which bird in the yard has been watching us."_

_The sun beat down on them, warm and comforting as infectious laughter bubbled in the air. Every breath tasted fresh, clean, and sanguinity filled him as they dozed in the sunlight. The hand in his suddenly squeezed tightly, unwilling to release him. He rolled onto his side, keeping their fingers interlocked._

"_I like that."_

_A warm breeze rustled the grass. _

"_Me too." _

"_Nolan . . ."_

_Nolan!_

"Nolan!"

Nolan blinked and shuddered as he looked up, wide-eyed. Jasper was holding his dirt covered arms in his cold grip, crouching on the ground in front of him. They were surrounded by trees and the quiet made his breaths seem louder than they were. His sleep pants were covered in dirt and Nolan exhaled slowly as he relaxed. Jasper's bottomless eyes stared at him in worry and expectation, reading his emotional state. "Why did you stop me? Is something wrong?"

Jasper's grip loosened. "You started to bleed."

He looked down at his hands. They were indeed bleeding, turning the black dirt on his skin into a thick, pasty substance, tinted red by the cuts on his hands. Nolan looked to the hole he had been digging. Chunks of dirt were scattered around him, evidence to just how wildly he'd been tearing at the ground. He pressed his hand to the cool earth, swallowing thickly, then stood. No matter how many times he'd awakened to find himself in the middle of the forest, it always sent a chill through his bones every time it happened. He flexed his fingers, feeling the skin knitting itself back together. He looked up and nodded reassuringly to Jasper, His Jas, bless him. Despite voicing his worries he was there every time, making sure he was alright and even going as far to awaken him from the strange sleep-walking episodes when they escalated, regardless of the risk of his power lashing out and harming him. Now that he was no longer asleep the hollow place in his chest made Nolan blatantly aware it was there, the missing half of himself. Nolan wiped his hands on his sleep pants, already bearing dirt stains.

"You can go home. I'm okay."

Dark brows drew together from under a disarray of blonde locks. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes. I just need to walk for a bit."

Jasper was in front of him then, scrutinizing him acutely. Nolan opened himself to the vampire completely, not trying to resist his emotional querying. They stood eye to eye, Nolan no longer shorter than his mate. After a moment cool lips captured his deeply before they were gone and he was alone, lips tingling faintly. He absently kicked some dirt into the hollow he'd dug with his bare foot before turning and began to walk. These occurrences had begun over a year ago, after Anala . . . . Nolan shuddered as his heart ached. They were sporadic, once or twice at first after a few weeks but now they came constantly, several times a week, leaving him to wake up deep in the forest covered in soil and surrounded by holes and loose dirt. Nolan walked aimlessly, listening to the quiet. He could sense another, silent in the trees above, and a small smile touched his lips at his ever watchful shadow. Nolan couldn't see the man but Elias was there, somewhere above him. There was a soft shuffling ahead and Nolan paused, listening. There was wet tearing and grunting. Nolan walked a bit faster and peeked around a large tree.

A large hulking form towered over a dead buck. Fur so black it gleamed like an oil slick shimmered as the creature shifted, large white teeth tearing into red meat. The colossal wolf straightened and looked over at him, piercing red gaze locking on him as he licked his bloody muzzle. Nolan sat at the tree base as the wolf returned to his meal. Javan was still Javan despite everything. A couple of weeks after that night Javan had returned from Italy, Nolan still didn't know exactly why or what the Volturi wanted him for but the vampire had always had no problem making his dislike for them clear and when he returned he had been full of rage and inertia. Nolan hadn't been able to tell him, everything that had been building: the pain and anger and hate of the unfairness of it all came flooding to the surface and Nolan could do nothing but weep on his shoulder as he hugged the frozen form against him. How could he do it? How could he explain to Javan, _Javan_, that the past several months had been filled with preparation for war? That he and his sister were ancient creatures and that Carus took Anala? How could he **possibly** tell him that Anala . . . The thought alone still upset him. Javan had been devastated and Nolan was in no condition to even begin consoling him. He had felt his soul tear, half of it shredding and blistering, charring away to nothing, leaving him frighteningly numb. Nolan had felt like he were dying, his very essence rending him apart. But Javan's steady presence helped anchor him like it always had just by being in the room. The pain was just a bit easier to bear with him back. He was closer than family. To make matters worse, Rowan died a few days later. He hadn't seemed physically ill, at least Carlisle could find nothing but Rowan's body had simply just shut down, bit by bit. When they had returned from what had been Carus's fortress the blonde was delirious, fevered and half-conscious and it worsened as the weeks passed. Elias's words had sent a pit of dread plummeting in his stomach.

"_What's going to happen to him?"_

_Elias shook his head, amber eyes clouded in worry. "I don't know." He whispered lowly, as if unwilling to speak the words aloud. "A Vayar has never outlived their creator."_

That had been before he knew, before he had come into his power and regained his memories. They all said Rowan would have never lived, murmured to each other in the days before his death and Nolan couldn't understand why they would say such things, how they could say something like that about someone they cared about. A Vayar's life lasted as long as its creators, that was the simple truth. If Rowan died then Anala was gone, something he remembered later on but to him, it didn't prove a damn thing. Nolan didn't accept that she was just _gone _like that. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Carlisle had tried everything and Nolan had felt for the man. No one should go through that sort of pain, especially not someone like Carlisle. To lose his brother and become reunited with him after more than two hundred years, only to have him ripped away from him again months later seemed like a cruel cosmic joke. A large furry head dropped in his lap and Nolan looked down as he laid a hand on the warm, heavy mass.

"Hey Jay." For a wolf, he was much like a cat. Lazy and fluid and unconcerned with things outside his own little world but Nolan knew there were many layers to the man inside this great beast. He spent months pouring over Anala's sketchbooks with him as he was the only one who could make heads or tails of the seemingly meaningless images, trying to find something, _anything_. It was bittersweet for them, among the pages of random, jumbled images were drawings. Drawings of trees and plants, of him and Javan and in the more recent books, of all of them: Esme and Carlisle in a love seat, a portrait of Rosalie, some of him and Jasper, of Edward and Alice and Emmett and even Rowan and Elias and Zain among others. Page after page of beautiful, detailed images made by her hand. The vampire had found nothing that would help but it was nice to look through them, to see the things she'd been creating. Nolan sighed and patted Javan's giant head.

"Come on. I've got a long day tomorrow."

Javan stood, shaking out his fur before he was bounding away, presumably to chase down some other poor creature for his wolf to feast on. Nolan rolled his shoulders, feeling the skin of his back shift and stretch and split as his wings burst forth. He grimaced lightly at the initial pain then sighed and relaxed as he stretched the appendages from confinement. It had taken time to adjust to having wings again, and if he were honest with himself he still wasn't quite used to them, it wasn't easy integrating his forgotten life with his most recent one. Nolan saw things differently now. Or maybe he was seeing them as he used to, he couldn't quite tell. Nolan was skilled in the art of War. He had commanded an army he had carefully handpicked himself, struck down enemy after enemy, ruled and protected _his_ _people_. But Nolan had also grown up with three witches, he had traveled the continents and drove a car and obsessed over old movies and subsisted among humans when he wasn't holed away against his will. Stuck between two realities as he was, Nolan often found himself in turmoil with himself, caught between an almost human man and the powerful creature he was by birthright. He was almost ashamed by how weak he had been. Of course he hadn't known it at the time but he was Nolan Cathari, Ahrahn of the Layame and one of the Marked, he had laid waste to much more powerful forces than measly demons yet he had been captured and tortured by them for the majority of this life. Fucking sickening. He paused. There it was again, Nolan mused as his wings flapped powerfully, lifting him high off the ground. That odd tone in his thoughts.

_You can go Eli. I'll be fine._

_Alright. _He missed Rowan. Nolan could feel it every day. Elias and Rowan had been extremely close, his relationship with the blonde had always been something they both cherished greatly and the loss had changed the auburn-haired Vayar. He was quieter, less blithe than he was before.

Nolan inhaled the cold air, feeling goose bumps rise on his skin. The earth was becoming farther and farther. He took off at break-neck speeds, the earth below a green and brown blur. He flashed over what he had once called home, the house dark and quiet, sending a painful jolt through his chest that he pushed away. It had been repaired after the attack but he had only returned there once, Javan was the only one to occupy it now. He landed on the roof of the large structure of the Cullen household. He could feel the thrum of energy, the presences of each person in the house. He summoned water from the nearby river, washing the dirt from his hands and feet. Nolan padded across the roof as his wings returned into his flesh and lightly swung down, hanging by his fingertips as he glided into the open hall window silently in one smooth motion. He entered his and Jasper's bedroom, stripping before the door even shut completely. He felt the air stir lightly before cold hands touched his sides, along the pattern of black markings on his skin and around to the ones on his sternum. Lips fluttered over his throat, over the scar those sharp teeth had left on him, a claim.

"You smell like the wind and dirt and the river . . . and Wolf."

"Javan's out there, most likely chasing a poor rabbit and tearing it apart."

"Sounds nice."

Nolan grinned. "Doesn't it?"

He turned and tilted his head a bit. Jasper was regarding his naked form, moving to circle him like a lion and its prey. Nolan's grin widened at the challenging look in his eye. He was not the only predator in the room but it was fun to watch him, to watch each other. He moved to the bed, collapsing against the soft covers sighing and shutting his eyes. It was late, or early depending on the direction he chose to go and while he needed less sleep than he used to, Nolan was tired. He could sense Jasper heading for the door and he smiled, knowing he'd be nearby.

"_do you think that one day, maybe, this will all be over and we'll live somewhere far away by the ocean and be happy until we die old and wrinkled and senseless?"_

Nolan rolled onto his side as he slipped into sleep.

_Maybe, sister. Maybe . . ._


	2. Chapter 2

**I**t was loud. Coinciding voices, thumping music, and laughter created a roar in his ears. But the loudest sound was the heartbeats. Heartbeats, dozens of them pulsed to their own individual rhythms alongside to the music. Hot, warm bodies were packed together, grinding and gyrating and moving together in the dark room illuminated by flashing lights and variously placed lights. Emmett sat at the bar, scanning his eyes over a sea of faces, nursing a drink he would not sample. He searched apathetically but purposefully. A long-haired brunette was dancing with a tall blonde man not too far from him, blue eyes flashing in the light as she caught his gaze, rocking her body against her partner's. No. The man behind the bar was looking him over slowly, light brown eyes lighting up. Emmett wasn't waiting for his shift to end. A burst of laughter caught his attention and he looked over to a small table surrounded by three women; a black-haired woman he quickly dismissed, a shorter, lighter-haired woman with big hazel eyes and a tall, platinum blonde woman with deep brown eyes. Her eyes flickered to him then over him, a small smile touching her lips as she looked back to her friends and 'nonchalantly' ignored the watchful eyes of the men around her moving over her body.

He had her. _Not even a challenge. _

It didn't take very long. A few well-placed words and a smile here and there and he was being pushed against a wall of a cramped storage closet as a warm, slim body pressed almost uncomfortably close. Artificial endearments fell from artificially painted lips and hands moved over his body hungrily, running though his hair, slipping under his shirt, unbuttoning his jeans. He hadn't been particularly paying attention as she spoke to him but he knew enough to recall her name. Josephine. He hadn't heard that one in a while, less common these days.

"You're beautiful Em."

Emmett looked down at the sound of her low voice, meant to be seductive and erotic but just came out overeager. "Don't call me that."

"Sure thing."

Lips grinned up at him as a mouth swallowed his cock whole. He exhaled and leaned his head against the shelf behind him. He could still clearly hear the music and people outside the tiny room. He was thirsty, the burn in his throat becoming insistent and annoying and he checked his watch. He still had some time to kill. He pulled her off after a few moments. She stood and Emmett reversed their positions, making her face away from him. Her heart was racing, the scent of arousal pouring off her in waves from beneath her scent and the unappealing chemical smell of her perfume. He slipped his hands up her creamy thighs and pulled down the bits of fabric that were her underwear. Her hips pushed back as he slipped into her in one smooth motion and she gasped loudly. "Oh!"

The disappointment was expected. His body reacted naturally, his cock swelled and pulsed, his heated skin tingled as his body climbed higher and higher towards orgasm but there was nothing . . . more. Josephine's cries and moans and '_so fucking good'_s were getting louder and Emmett wished she would just be quiet. He leaned in to nuzzle the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. She smelled a bit like pears and nutmeg and he ran his tongue lazily over her pulse as she came. He held her waist to steady her as he continued to thrust. Josephine didn't feel right, none of them ever did. The bodies always felt wrong, the lips and touches and sex, none of it was ever right, not completely, though if he was lucky he'd find one that didn't feel as wrong. This was not one of those moments. The enjoyment of an act he had always reveled in had been skewed, altered, giving physical gratification while still leaving him jaded and aloof. The warm tickle at the base of his spine and the tightening in his loins increased. Bravura emerald green eyes flashed in his mind's eye suddenly, just as he climaxed and he swore angrily. "Fuck. _Fuck!_"

Emmett barely stopped himself from punching a hole through the wall. He reigned in his temper, shoving it down as he took an unneeded breath. Josephine was breathing heavily, regaining her bearings and hadn't noticed his moment of ire. He backed away and pulled his pants back into place. He ran a hand through his curls and Josephine looked at him. He studied her for a moment before frowning lightly.

"We should do that again sometime. Want to give me your number?"

"No."

Her expression shifted to confusion and slight offence, unused to the sudden rejection. "And why not?"

"Well sweetheart, you kind of annoy me and I just don't see you worth genuinely interacting with again," he adjusted his jacket, turning for the door as he looked back at her. "And to be completely honest Josephine, you couldn't handle me." Her face turned outraged and Emmett left the room before she could begin screeching at him. He slipped through the packed club like a phantom and made his way down the street to the black Mercedes at the end of the block. He checked his watch again as he drove through the city of Santa Fe. Emmett had only been to New Mexico once but he was here only for the night, not to enjoy the scenery. He stopped across the street of a dark, empty building and parked. He flashed across the street and leaped to the top of the four story building, stilling as he waited.

"Sean Anders," he whispered to himself, beginning his ritual. _Registered sex offender, wanted on several unsolved pedophilia cases and three assault charges. Accused of murdering a twelve year old girl and her babysitter eight years ago. Charges were dropped due to lack of evidence._ He didn't recite the man's crimes to justify himself, Emmett didn't give a shit, but he wanted to know who he was hunting. With animals it didn't really matter, they followed the natural order they had ingrained into their DNA, people though, were capable of monstrosities even he wouldn't dare commit and **that** was where the fun of it came. A monster meeting and even scarier predator. Although not all his victims had neat little records of their crimes like this one. He could hear the heartbeat from blocks away. When the man appeared, he was walking with his hands laden with plastic grocery bags. Emmett waited until he turned into the alleyway before jumping down to land a little ways away from him. Sean startled, dark eyes going wide as saucers. He was about thirty-five with thinning dark hair that made him seem older than he really was. He was of average height, unremarkable features, someone no one would look twice at. Emmett recognized the look of a monster though. It was in the eyes.

"What in the hell . . .?"

He tilted his head curiously. "Sean, right?"

"How did—who are you?"

Emmett stepped forward as his teeth lengthened and his own monster rose to the surface, excited for a hunt. The plastic bags hit the asphalt and Sean screamed in horror, stumbling away. "What are you?! Please! D-don't kill me!"

It was funny how he begged for his life. Who was he to beg for mercy? What made this sniveling, sack of meat and shit think he deserved to live more than anyone else? He certainly wasn't what one would call an honorable man. Sean ran and Emmett let him. He ran down the alleyway, heart thudding panicked beats in his chest, forcing his blood to pump faster as adrenaline was released throughout his system. Emmett walked through the shadows, watching his every move. A lot of them ran, or tried to anyway, and others just panicked, too frozen to stumble more than a few feet. Emmett flashed in front of the pale man and slammed him against the wall of the brick building he'd been living in for the past few months, well, not after tonight. Bones cracked at the force of the impact against the solid wall and Sean gasped painfully, right lung beginning to collapse. The smell of his fear was dousing his body as his blood pumped quickly. Emmett ripped into his throat and drank deeply. The hot lifeblood slid down his throat smoothly and collected into a warm pool in his belly. His body thrummed with energy and he growled as he dropped the lifeless corpse on the ground. He licked his lips and slipped his hand into his jeans, fingering the locket burning a hole in his pocket. He looked down at himself, his neck and shirt covered in blood. Emmett returned to the Mercedes and drove a few miles to an out-of-the-way motel. He had purchased a room for this very reason, he'd always been a messy eater, never bothering to be neat while he took down his prey and walking around covered in blood was apparently frowned upon in society. Emmett stripped as he entered the room with its walls overlaid in outdated wallpaper and shabby dark carpet. It was clean however, the old furniture neat and tidied. Once he was under the hot spray of the shower, Emmett allowed his body to relax a bit. The water ran red and he frowned as his blood high diminished and that persistent, cool numbness filled his core once again.

This, everything, had become so . . . tedious. The feeding, the sex, they didn't have the same effects anymore. It was all prosaic and insipid. Mostly they were distractions and kept his mind busy enough to not focus on the hollow void in him and it had been working exceptionally well, really, but now he was just going through the motions. Considering what he was he thought the distractions would have worked for a lot longer than this. Frustration and anger churned lowly in his foundation. The thought of putting an end to his eternal life crossed his mind every day. All he needed was fire and lots of it, simple enough to do. He could have done it thousands of times over by now. These thoughts crossed his mind often and each time he religiously told himself no. He couldn't put his family through that. But more so, he wouldn't insult _her_ memory that way.

She had fought for her life.

She had fought for his too.

Emmett wasn't going to make that mean nothing, no matter what it did to him. He would let her go, fine, but that was the one thing he had to keep himself from falling over the edge of that void. His family had asked him to stay and he did at first. He stayed, listening to the sound of Rowan dying a few doors down, trying to hold his sanity together. Rowan had been it for him, the final straw, and his _last_ hope that his Mate was still alive. Emmett had endured a lot: the painful emptiness, the saddened, sympathetic looks on his family's faces, but above all he had to look at Nolan. Nolan, Emmett loved him like a brother but he couldn't stand looking at him. It hurt, it hurt like hell. He simply looked too much like her; they had the same eye shape, the same pitch black hair, the same cheekbones and tiny little wrinkle that appeared between their brows when they were concentrating. He couldn't take it. It was torture. He spent the weeks before Rowan's death in Anala's bedroom, desperately holding on to the last shred of faith he had left when he wasn't engrossed in learning all he could from Zain. He'd slip in the door and stand against the wall next to it, just inhaling her scent and watching the shadows shift and change as the day passed. He'd been too afraid to touch anything, unwilling to aid in her scent fading any more than it already slowly was and sometimes he swore he could almost hear her, feel her touch him. But once the blonde Vayar died Emmett lost that hope. His mate was dead. After that he only stayed long enough to be able to control his gift, unable to endure the maddening pain he'd been slowly drowning in. Carlisle gave him the keys to his car silently and Emmett drove as fast and as far as he could and buried his pain behind his true nature, content to stay that way.

Emmett exited the tiny shower and dried off, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Scarlet eyes stared back at him flatly from a pale, perfect face. A cold mask. Inhuman. Emmett grinned at the irony of it all. He dressed quickly as he packed up his belongings and quickly slipped in a pair of dark contacts. He exited the room and descended the steps to the parking lot. He threw his bag in the trunk of his car and headed for the office to check out. He stopped momentarily. The girl behind the desk faced away from him, long dark brown hair falling nearly to her waist in smooth waves. She turned and smiled shyly at him, friendly green-blue eyes meeting his. A sting of pain lodged itself in his chest.

"Leaving already?" She was young, barely sixteen by the look of her.

Emmett recovered himself. "Yeah, I've got a long drive ahead."

The back door opened and an older man stepped out, a box in his hands. The man looked to his daughter and Emmett placed his key on the counter and signed the slip of paper she handed him. The two waved him out and minutes later he was speeding onto the highway. He didn't have a location in mind yet, debating if he would drive to another state or leave the country again all together. Emmett picked out the irksome contacts and tossed them out the window. He had become good at making his mind blank but sometimes, sometimes thoughts slipped through, memories and fantasies of the woman who had come into his life like a glowing beacon then was taken from him, all in the same short year. He could almost feel a warm hand running down his back, soft lips murmuring sweet nothings in his ears and images of green and smiles and—Emmett shut his thoughts away, not wanting to see anything more as he sped down the road.


	3. Chapter 3

**J**asper had always been an observer. Always assessed and watched and contemplated from the outside, never truly feeling involved to the same extent as others and had always been comfortable there, leading him to be misunderstood by others outside of his family, evaded. Nolan had taken everything he believed in and thrown it out the window and opened him to possibilities he didn't even know he wanted to discover, dragging him along out of his bubble as he followed in bewilderment. He had watched his mate grow and transform into a thing of true beauty, worthy of admiration and awe. He was a creature of power and one he had never imagined could exist. Jasper had been there, supporting him as he became a ruler, or more so, remembered that he was a ruler. He fell into the role effortlessly. The first time, Nolan had been so nervous, worried that he couldn't help his people, worried he wouldn't be able to provide and give back what they lost and ensure the safety of his race. Jasper hadn't quite known what to tell him but he had told him there was no need for concern. Jasper had complete faith in his mate and was proven correct on that belief time and time again. Nolan had been a good ruler, it showed in the respect his people gave him, the familiarity and love they emanated as he walked among them and each one had become important to him, known or unknown. Nolan fell into a rhythm that came naturally, determined to do what he needed for them all.

At the moment, he was repairing his ancestral home. The Layame were wide-spread across the globe but on the other side, on their plane, they had lands, a central kingdom that Nolan had called the Arceon. Nolan had said that the first place to start should be where it all began, the groundwork of it all. He worked endlessly, gone for sometimes days to a week at a time and when Jasper couldn't accompany him, he always made sure to be waiting for once he returned, often exhausted and frustrated and occasionally overwhelmed though Nolan never complained. He'd just smile at him and Jasper would pull him close and whisper how proud he was. Because he was. It was all very surreal, sometimes Jasper would stop and validate this had really happened, that the strange, amazing things he'd witnessed in the past couple of years was real.

Sometimes though, Nolan would spend hours sitting in a quiet corner of the house, saying nothing to no one and it pained Jasper knowing there was nothing he could do during those intervals. Frankly, it worried him. Since Anala's death Nolan had disregarded the incident completely. He didn't believe she was dead, and how could he? Jasper knew how close they were, had seen it on a daily basis and she'd been taken from him in one of the worst ways imaginable, after fighting so hard for so long to survive. He and Anala were twins, together since before they were even born and Nolan seemed strangely adamant about her. Carlisle said it was his grief, manifesting in his denial and causing him to sleep-walk. It was common when someone couldn't accept the death of a loved one. It made sense, Nolan _didn't_ accept it, refused to. He missed her. They all did. Her absence was tangible, loud. Emmett had felt like a raw nerve in the weeks before he shut down completely and left, and everything had more or less halted. They were vampires however, they had no choice but to go on and carry the sadness wherever they went until it dulled enough that they didn't feel it every day. Carlisle had been especially melancholy since Rowan and Anala's deaths, Jasper's family had fractured and his mate was unreachable. For weeks Nolan had been void of any substantial emotion. No sadness or anger, nothing. Hell, his mate had downed a bottle of whiskey one night and Jasper never felt anything more than slight contempt from him and Jasper was at the end of his rope. He'd been so afraid that Nolan would never be himself again. Javan's return crumbled the dam and Jasper didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned.

He watched Nolan stand at the edge of the yard. His pale eyes stared forward blankly, seeing things Jasper couldn't, his body swaying slightly. The first time this happened it was terribly eerie. He couldn't understand what was wrong with Nolan and after waking him Jasper ended up on the ground fifty yards from him, a gash across his belly where it felt like his insides had just painfully combusted. Since then Jasper watched him at night to be sure he didn't get hurt or cause injury to himself, uncaring if Nolan accidently attacked him. But there was a difference in the more recent episodes, namely this one. Most nights, Nolan walked seemingly aimlessly as he slept and always ended up in the same vicinity each time. Nolan always dug in the same general area and Jasper found it odd. Asleep as he was, physically he was searching, digging and stopping just to dig somewhere else while consciously unaware of what he was doing. Lately it had escalated and became more frequent, he'd become more anxious and frantic, muttering incoherently to himself and tearing at the ground till his hands bled. But tonight was by far the strangest. Nolan just stood at the tree line outside the house, staring into the dark trees.

"Jasper?"

"Yes Rose?"

"Is he going to be okay?"

Jasper frowned. He wasn't sure anymore. Physically he was fine. Regular heartrate, no sign he was in pain, but he just didn't know what was happening to his mate at the moment, this was new and Jasper grudgingly admitted, terrifying. He kept his faith however, Nolan was a hell of a force, since the day he'd first saw him Jasper saw the fire in his eyes. Wild, like the stallion his father had when he was just a child; tamed by none with ardor in his blood. He reckoned he'd be just fine. He turned to Rosalie, standing behind him with wide golden eyes, worry buzzed over his skin and Jasper soothed it, watching her relax.

"Yeah, Rose. He is."

**C**louds flew past overhead endlessly at a quick, steady rate. Everything was bathed in radiant light, and then it wasn't, and then it was, on and on and on with no end in sight in this surreal place. There was no explanation nor reason to her presence and she was not searching for one, for she had no need to wonder. She existed. Or maybe she didn't. Being was a strange thing. What was it? And what was it not? The soft, silvery grass rocked gently beneath her like calm waves on an ocean. Her eyes shut then opened after a few silent moments.

Anala had been blind to all.

And then she wasn't.

The earth, stars, planets, existence itself flew past at lightning speed. It was abruptly too bright and yet she wasn't bothered by it. She was energy, she was _life_, suddenly no longer bound in any particular shape or form. The brightness around her flickered out like a flame and she was in the dark, a shock to her already overawed system. She wandered for what could've of been centuries, or mere moments, until the sensation of seemingly being yanked out of existence landed her here, in the vast expanse Anala sat in with the strange, phantom-like man watching her in silence. He had been there with her, lingering just inside of her line of sight. Always silent, he watched her with black eyes that knew her and she knew him and they knew each other and that was all she could comprehend. She picked a pale flower and another grew slowly in its place.

The phantom didn't take it when she offered and she smiled as he continued to watch her so she walked, and continued to walk as the phantom followed her silently and the clouds passed over in the endless expanse of shifting light and shade.

**E**dward looked to Javan, pleadingly. The elder vampire sat watching the television screen, uninterested. But Edward wasn't deterred, he cared for Nolan, he was sure of that more than anything else he knew about this man. If Jasper couldn't get through to him then Javan could. He needed to move on from this before it killed him. He went to sit next to him on the bed. "Please Javan. It isn't healthy."

"You came here just to tell me this? I'm disappointed Edward, I was expecting a much more entertaining conversation."

"Javan you've seen how this is affecting Nolan. He has to let her go, it will destroy him."

"Like your father let his brother go?"

He sighed. "Yes."

Javan sat up slowly and moved towards him, coming inches from him and Edward stood. Javan moved in a flash, faster than he could, and pinned him onto the bed. Despite knowing the other for over nearly two years now, Javan was still the biggest mystery of the millennia. He didn't think like others, his mind worked differently and whenever he felt like he'd finally breached the surface of what was **Javan**, he was proven wrong time and time again. He was unpredictable and incontrollable like the animal he was. It was nerve-wracking and undeniably . . . fascinating. Red eyes bore down into his own and Edward felt if he could he'd blush as red as Bella in that moment.

"I don't think that's why you're here Edward, not entirely." He paused, eyes moving over his face before a cold grin crossed his lips. "Do I make you nervous, boy? Maybe you want something. Something that virginal little coupling between you and your Bella can't give you. We are after all, creatures enslaved to our nature." Carnal images flashed through Javan's mind, ideas of what exactly he thought that something was and how he planned to do it. Edward swallowed the venom that pooled in his mouth.

"You're changing the subject."

"No, I'm choosing to ignore it instead. Leave Nolan be you pesky little telepath."

"Bu—"

"Quiet. You just need to let things run their course. This wound is deep, you can't expect him to be alright. It's cruel." Javan's fingers moved under his shirt, smoothed up his abdomen and that wolfish grin was back and Edward admitted it looked good on the lycan-vampire hybrid. He leaned in close and Edward was out of his element as surprisingly warm lips brushed against his throat. Colder than a human, but definitely warmer than a vampire's. "Now, how about we stop talking about such things. I'm bored."

Edward entertained the thought. Javan was powerful and strange and darkly attractive and there was no need for care here. Bella's face hovered in his mind's eye, large brown eyes staring up at him innocently, cheeks flushed. Lately however, Edward had been struggling with himself. He slipped out from beneath Javan and the man rolled onto his back, smiling mysteriously. Edward's eyes trailed to where his shirt had ridden up, exposing his toned stomach.

"I love Bella."

"I'm sure you do."

"Will you do something about Nolan?"

Javan sprawled lazily and Edward watched his agile form move. "No."

_Of course not._ Frustrating man that he was, Edward shouldn't have expected anything less. He had to get out of there, Javan was looking at him as if _he_ were the telepath and his body was reacting to the man before him, laid out like a gift he could enjoy so easily. Edward was ashamed to admit he was attracted to the dark-haired man. Edward didn't want to be. His control should be better than this. He had watched him feed once, passing by the two-story house one night. Seeing him in the living room of the house, his naked form thrusting into the woman beneath him, moaning and writhing as he took what he wanted from her had left Edward transfixed. His sharp fangs had pierced her flesh, consuming her blood and the woman hardly seemed to notice, crying out his name as if praising a God and in that moment, Javan was a God, a beautiful, indifferent, monstrous God. Javan looked up at him and smirked, growling as he climaxed before finishing off his meal. He was truly one with his nature. Free and knew his power and accepted it without hesitation. Edward couldn't fathom him. Despite those things, there was a sadness in his eyes, a despondency left behind by Anala's absence and maybe Javan felt the loss deeper than Edward would ever know. Anala and Nolan were Pack to him, after all. He couldn't understand that bond.

Javan's penetrating stare bore into him and Edward brought Bella to the front of his mind. "Decided if you're going to admit you want me yet or are you going to keep denying yourself?"

"That would be inappropriate."

"I hate hypocrites Edward." He waved a hand. "Off with you. You aren't very amusing tonight." The dismissal both angered and surprised him even though he knew to expect nothing less. "And Edward," Javan's blood-red eyes were steady as they watched through him.

"Leave Nolan alone. Let him get through this the way he needs to, I know you mean well but meddling in something like this will cause more damage than not."


	4. Chapter 4

**T**he sunlight had gone, not reaching this new place. Fog replaced the brightness and the dark grass was all that was visible anymore. Anala walked in the endlessness with the omnipresent phantom. Her feet stopped and her toes curled in the earth. She watched. A figure, far, far in the distance. Standing across her, they were barely seen. She watched, waiting. Dark hair was visible and bright, pale eyes stared through to her. An odd sensation breezed through her. They were calling out inaudibly, hands slamming against a force of nothingness between them and her. She tilted her head curiously, stepping forward, the phantom unexpectedly wrapped strong hands around her, embracing her preventively, and her confusion transformed into fear. Black eyes looked at her then away. He pointed downward. The ground ended, dropping steeply off into a tremendous abyss. It stared at her as she looked into it and backed further into the phantom's hold. The figure in the fog was gone. She sat on the grass, plucking up a pale flower.

The phantom stood a little ways away, watching.

**C**arlisle stood in the doorway of Jasper's bedroom and watched Nolan pace in agitation, flipping through another book from the stack on the desk. He was muttering to himself, growling in frustration and throwing down the book only to pick up another. Carlisle didn't know what to do anymore. They had tried to comfort and support him and the man dismissed them. They had given him space and then he began to shut them out. Nolan was inconsolable, frantic. "Come _on_. Come on, there has to be something." He tossed the book on the desk and leaned over it, exhaling.

"You have help me out here Anala." Nolan's whispered words caused Carlisle to frown in concern and his heart ache for him.

"Nolan?"

Arctic blue eyes met his own. Nolan straightened and Carlisle stepped into the room. "Nolan you can't do this to yourself."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Nolan _please_," he grasped the young man's shoulders. "I can't watch you put yourself through this, put Jasper through this, anymore. I'm sorry Nolan, I truly am. You deserved more." Nolan's eyes became guarded. "But Nolan, Anala's gone. You said yourself if Anala were a spirit, you would see her, you haven't. You have to accept it and . . . let go. Continuing like this will kill you."

Nolan looked at him for a long moment and Carlisle thought he'd reached him for a moment. Nolan blinked and his clear eyes scanned the room as he stepped away. He smiled. "Thank you Carlisle. I appreciate the concern."

"Nolan—"

Nolan's pale eyes spit cold fire at him and Carlisle almost stepped back. "Could you do it?!" Nolan didn't lose his temper very often but he was always a force of heat and rage when he did. Having that anger directed at him was a completely different experience that left Carlisle unable to speak for a long moment. Nolan continued, his anger unleashed and Carlisle would have to simply wait it out and hoped he walked away unscathed. "Could you let go, Carlisle, of the person who you've been with since before you were able to even fathom you weren't part of the world yet? Could you let go of that person, after years, _years_, of holding onto each other to survive in your own personal circle of hell? Could _you_ just let go of the other half of yourself Carlisle, after regaining an entire set of memories that remind just how close you two really are? Feel yourself suddenly empty and incomplete and just _**let go**_? Could you?!"

Carlisle couldn't think of anything to say to that. Nolan turned away. "Just go. I have things I need to do."

He collected himself, recovering from the raw emotion that had been Nolan's eyes. "What is it you are trying to do here Nolan?"

He slammed his hands against the desk and the pipes groaned slightly. "I don't know!" he sighed. "I don't know," he said softer. "I just want my sister."

"I understand." And he did. Carlisle knew the pain, the longing. The need to do whatever he could to get a loved one back. Carlisle had coped however, having years of experience and infinite time on his hands. He buried his brother, got closure. The blue-eyed man never received that. Seeing Nolan this way was painful. He was lost. Carlisle feared he would wander so far they would not be able to reach him anymore and they would have to watch him slowly destroy himself. "I understand that losing Anala hurts you, and it'll get easier. I promise you, Nolan. But you need to accept her death, this is hurting you."

"No! She's not gone." He shook his head. "She can't be. I don't expect you to believe in what I'm saying."

Carlisle gave him a beseeching look. "Nolan, Anala is _gone_—"

"Get out." Nolan sat at in the desk chair. "Just please, leave me alone. Please."

Carlisle wanted to say more, to finally get him to accept the death of his sister and let go of some of the pain he carried. Instead he stayed silent. Nolan was tense, his eyes were tired and Carlisle could see he was on the verge of something terrible. He was desperate and wounded and not thinking clearly. Carlisle couldn't push it without consequences, not today. He stepped behind him and touched his soft dark hair. He placed a hand on his warm shoulder, suddenly mournful.

"I'm sorry, son."

Nolan didn't move.

"So am I."

**E**mmett ripped the arm from its torso and flung it across the darkened street. The vampire screeched in pain and anger but didn't get a chance to do much else as he tore her head from her body in one smooth twist. Her body went limp. The other ran at him and they rolled for a moment. This one was more experienced and he was glad for a challenge, unlike with the first. Emmett spun, and slammed the hissing man down onto the asphalt, pinning him, and braced a knee in his lower back. He had an ex-confederate soldier and a speedy telepath for brothers. His father was a three-hundred year old vampire and Emmett had sparred ruthlessly with all three of them for years. This man would have to do better if he really expected to live.

"You should've turned back when I gave you the chance."

"That bitch was _our_ kill!"

"Clearly she wasn't." For a serial arsonist, she smelled surprisingly good. "Delicious by the way. I chose well, didn't I?"

"You'll pay for this. There's more of us, you know. They're going to rip you into tiny pieces, man." The vampire laughed. "Then they'll put you back together only to roast you slowly."

"you mean the tall dark-haired guy, the gutsy little red-head and the dark one who looks like he stepped out of the lamest Goth apparel store on earth?" the man hesitated, confused by his knowledge. "Haven't seen them in a couple days, right?"

"You son of—"

"Watch it. My mother is a wonderful person." He tilted his head. "And she could rip you to shreds."

"Fuck you, you bastard!"

"My parents were married when I was conceived. Ironically enough so were my other parents when I turned. Your empty threats and insults just aren't doing it for me."

The vampire's growl was cut short as Emmett quickly tore him apart before dumping the two bodies into a dumpster. He waved a hand, lighting it on fire. In all fairness he did tell them to go away but they had decided the meal was worth their lives. Emmett scoffed and walked until he reached civilization once again. He pulled up his hood. People walked and carried on obliviously and Emmett melted into the crowded New York streets. He had swam halfway to Portugal before deciding the trip wasn't worth it. He didn't want to go to Portugal. He didn't want to go anywhere. It was pointless, why go if he would never really enjoy it? He ended up in New York and now he was contemplating what to do with himself. The thought crossed his mind to pick up the Mercedes from the lot he parked it in down in Raleigh. Maybe he'd head up to Alaska again, he hadn't seen Kate in . . . Emmett smirked. _Quite a while_. The thought didn't last long, he didn't feel like going up there either. Emmett ducked into a doorway littered with posters, stickers and strange graffiti and leaned against the dark wall as he watched the people pass by. After an hour he decided to check his voicemail, he'd been putting it off for a few months now and might as well get it over with.

"_Hi honey,"_ Esme's warm voice came through. _"I know you don't answer but I hope you at least check these messages and I hope you're alright. It's sunny today, can you imagine the relief?" _she laughed and Emmett couldn't stop the small smile that crossed his lips. _"Rose and Alice are in the garden . . . you should see it Em, it's beautiful." _Emmett didn't want to look at that garden. It was just shy of an empty grave.

The mechanical female voice interrupted as he swiped his finger over the keypad on the screen. "Message erased. Next message."

"_Son, by now your mother has probably left you a message and is most likely preparing to send you another." _There was soft humor in his voice._ "We understand you need your space but please, check in more often to keep her sane. Be careful Emmett."_

It continued for a few more minutes. He listened to two more from Esme, one from Alice, another, annoyed one, from Rosalie and a short, brief message from Jasper. _"miss you bro. Edward cheats when we spar and isn't as fun durin' a hunt. Still with that bug up his ass."_ He chuckled as he heard Edward protest in the background and he erased it. The next message played automatically.

"_Hi Em," _Emmett froze as his chest cracked painfully. He hadn't listened to her last voicemail in months but he still knew every fucking word and felt angrier with each time. _"I am in a certain store looking at a certain pair of underwear that a certain boyfriend would appreciate __**very**__ much." _the light laughter was like a crushing blow. He couldn't do this anymore. _"I'm at the mall and will leave soon so if there's anything else you want me to pick up before I leave you have twenty minutes. Oh, and if you ask me to go into the auto store next door again and ask for a whatever valve for a thing you __**know**__ I've never heard about and find the "right" one, I will happily maim you. See you soon. I lov—"_

"Message erased."


	5. Chapter 5

**B**lack storm clouds twisted and stretched above her. Flashes of red and white accompanied sonorous cracks that had her covering her ears. She was frightened. The phantom was nowhere to be seen and she was alone. She ran on wilted flowers and dulled grass. The storm followed, looming threateningly above. What was happening? Why did she feel this? A bright flash blinded her momentarily and she skidded to a halt as the light faded and the ground suddenly dropped away. The Abyss. It was silent and dark, unmoved by the happenings above, staring at her. She turned. Something was coming for her, the storm followed it. A menacing figure loomed behind her, coming closer. She searched desperately for the presence that had accompanied her for as long as she could remember, searched for black eyes that always watched in silence. Anala stood between an approaching threat and an unknown threat. Both were equally terrifying. A cold force rushed her and she was airborne.

Then she was falling.

The dark skies rose further and further.

The sensation she felt was stinging and heated and unbearably distressing. It was _pain_.

Anala fell into black and deafening howling assaulted her. Voices. Hundreds, thousands, screeching and howling and the feeling she had just recognized as pain was becoming worse and worse. A horrified sound escaped her, drowned out by the disengaged voices.

**N**olan was awakened to the bed being shaken. He rolled groggily and sat up. The bed wasn't being shaken, or rather, not the only thing moving. The entire house trembled, the items on the desk shook lightly and the house groaned a bit. It only lasted a few short moments until it stopped and Nolan frowned in confusion. A small earthquake perhaps? He shoved the covers away and stood, stretching as he looked out at the river and endless trees from the floor-to-ceiling window. The air was buzzing slightly and Nolan dismissed it to the unexpected awakening. He showered and dressed, planning to do very little that day. The people he had handling various details and tasks were doing well so far, no real crises in his plans to rebuild had come to pass as they had in the previous year. There were no plans he needed to look over, he wasn't needed to oversee any building reparations or any training. Nothing. He could relax and for the first time in what felt like months, which it most likely had been, Nolan had some free time. Carlisle and Esme stood by the stove in the kitchen and Nolan smiled.

"Morning."

Esme's smile was warm and her toffee colored hair glowed from the gray light coming in through the window above the sink, framing her head and shoulders. "Good morning Nolan. Would you like some breakfast?"

"No I'm alright," he told the maternal woman. "I'll just have some yogurt or something. Is Jazz around?"

"He's with Edward." Carlisle replied. Nolan sat at the island as he spoke. He hadn't been upset with the man after listening to him repeat that his sister was dead. Nolan knew Carlisle was worried, but he couldn't help but be angry, angry at himself, at the world. But he was happy to see that the patriarch cared enough to try and talk to him. He hadn't understood, none of them did, not really, and Nolan knew it wasn't their fault. They only knew the Nolan he was before everything had happened, not the centuries old Layame that had laid dormant inside. Nolan knew the pain of losing the people he loved, he'd lost more than he ever cared to remember. This was not the same. "They'll be right down."

Nolan ran a hand over his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. A chill ran over his skin and he tried to shove away the weird feeling. As if on cue, the two men appeared. Nolan watched Jasper near him and he grinned at his mate, pulling him in to press their lips together, lightly sucking his smooth bottom lip. He had leisure time and Nolan thought of nothing better than to laze about with Jasper. He needed a break, his mind was tired and his heart heavy and it felt like he hadn't really used up the day simply spend time with his mate in weeks. No one mentioned the earlier tremors, seeming to have dismissed it as well and Nolan didn't have a reason to think on it again until a few hours later.

Jasper's lips were moving slowly over his abdomen and Nolan sighed as their naked bodies pressed together; hot to cold. Sweat dampened his chest and brow, making his hair stick to the skin. Nolan laughed softly as teeth nipped beneath his bellybutton. His skin still tingled pleasantly from the last couple of hours of Jasper. Jasper's hands. Jasper's mouth. Jasper's body flush against his own as lust surged in a constant flow between them, concentrating and intensifying constantly as Jasper's gift amplified everything and clouded his mind with want. He may not be able to manipulate his emotions but the man could very much project. Nolan ran a hand over disheveled wheat colored locks and amber eyes met his own. Nolan winked cheekily and suddenly reversed their positions, trailing his eyes over his mate's frozen, sculpted body. He lightly traced an indistinguishable crescent scar on his ribs and leaned down to run his tongue over a pale pink nipple, trailing his hand down Jasper's torso. Nolan's skin shivered as a low rumble filled his ears and the house shook once again. Nolan's flesh ached and he sucked in a breath at the unexpected pain. He pushed up on his knees and looked around at the shaking walls.

_What the hell is happening?_

There was no explanation for it and the strange sensation he awoke with was concerning, nagging at him and Nolan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Just as it did the first time, the low trembling stopped a few moments after it began. Nolan frowned. A cold hand touched his side and he looked down to Jasper.

"What's wrong?"

"Didn't you feel that?"

"Yes, earthquakes are not common in these part but the ocean is not very far. It could be aftershocks from there or further down the coast, maybe." Nolan wasn't very convinced by that. It seemed improbable, didn't fit. Maybe it was unreasonable suspicion but there was something off about it. He stood and scanned his gaze over the window instinctively, opening his mind and reaching along the warm tether in his heart.

_Elias, has anything strange happened today?_ Nolan could sense he was at the warehouse.

_Not that I am aware. No demons and none of the others detected anything. Why? Is something wrong?_

Nolan eased his worry with responding assurance and gratitude. _No, thanks Eli._

Maybe it really was coincidence. Even as he thought it, it still nagged at him. He sighed, unsure of anything at this point. There hadn't been an attack in over a year. The Lotus had assisted him in hunting down the lingering demons in the area fairly quickly and everything had been quiet. It could have been possible that some of Carus's smarter followers were plotting revenge but they would have triggered the wards set up around town and the house if they were here.

"Darlin'? You alright?" He turned to see Jasper standing by the bed.

"Yeah, Jazz." He pushed his thoughts away. Not today, he needed to take a day to simply be Nolan. No war tactics, not restoration plans . . . no trying to piece together clues from his sister's sketchbooks no matter how much he wanted to sit and find something in those books to find the one scrap he knew had to be there somewhere.

The day continued in relative normalcy, Nolan still felt a strange buzzing in the air but it was easy enough to ignore. A storm had descended over the entire region. Black clouds hovered in the sky outside as lightening flashed and thunder rolled angrily in booming claps. Rain slashed over the windows and the wind had picked up, attempting to uproot the swaying trees. Rain was common in these parts but Nolan had to admit this storm was definitely one of the stronger ones, the kind that only came around a few times a year. Not long after Carlisle returned from the hospital, the house had rattled, much more intensely than the previous times. It shook, and groaned as books fell from shelves and items rolled off tables and shook across the floors. It had lasted twice as long as the last and after it stopped, Nolan felt like his body was trying climb out of its skin. Nolan was halfway down the stairs when the lights went out. When he reached the first floor, Alice and Esme had already lit several candles and began placing them around the house. Nolan knew it was for his sake. His vision had improved with his transformation but it also wasn't as impeccable as a vampire's, he could still bust his ass over a coffee table if it was dark enough. He fell against the railing as his ears suddenly began to ring piercingly. The storm rampaged outside and Nolan gasped as his heart thudded and the buzzing that he'd felt all day on his skin had increased as an indescribable warmth filled his being. The storm began to quiet. The thunder and lightning lessened and the rain softened considerably. Nolan straightened and moved to look out the living room windows. Jasper was next to him, talking, but Nolan couldn't hear him over the ringing. Nolan turned, grabbing his jacket from the hall closet and barely turned as he threw it on and spoke, heading for the door.

"I have to go."

"Wait, where are you going? Nolan!"

Nolan was already running across the lawn and into the trees. He didn't have a direction, moving through trees solely by instinct. The only sound was the rain and his heart thudding loudly in his chest. The entire day had been off and now Nolan moved through the trees, fear crawling up his spine as that indescribable feeling flooded in his chest. Nolan wasn't afraid he was in danger, he was more afraid in the sense that it was something else, something inside himself that couldn't decipher what was happening. He slowed as he neared familiar territory. He had awakened in this area enough times to recognize certain markers: two trees side by side, bark lighter than most of the ones around it, a low hill. The wet ground absorbed his footsteps. He walked, feeling as if he were being drawn, or guided. He spotted some evidence of his more recent digging, loose dirt and half-filled holes. He couldn't figure out why he was here. The air was . . . quiet.

Then he heard it.

A gasping breath. The snap of a twig. Nolan whirled and paused, listening. His eyes scanned around but there was no movement among the trees. He walked forward on silent feet, years of hunting and training kicking in. He was suddenly anxious. After only a few moments of walking through the undergrowth he stopped, knees weakening. A small figure crawled from the earth. Covered in wet dirt and half buried still. Soft, low cries and groans escaped a face obscured by a mane of black and the rain created trails through the mud, revealing light golden-brown flesh. Nolan didn't need to see the face.

Anala.

Nolan ran to her, dropped to his knees and grabbed her, pulling her from the earth. She cried out, struggled feebly. Her skin was lukewarm beneath his fingers, but it was virile, _alive._ "Anala?!" he grasped her shoulders. "Anala!" Black lashes fluttered before dazed pools of emerald met his. They cleared and recognition filled them as she stopped struggling against him. Tears pooled in his eyes and he clutched her against him. _Thank you. _Arms wrapped around him, gripping his jacket and a soft, shaky rasp was in his ear.

"Nolan?"

A sob built in his chest as his hold tightened. He was holding his sister. He could feel her against him, see her. His mind went quiet and in an instant, the restless aching that had been in him for so long was gone. Like taking a breath after holding it continuously. Nolan sat in the mud and rain and repeatedly made sure this was real, that he wasn't asleep or insane or hallucinating. The arms against his back dropped slowly and her head slumped against his shoulder. Nolan panicked.

"Anala?" he pulled back, holding her unresponsive body. He pressed his fingers against her throat and sighed. She was alive. He lay her down and pulled off his jacket. He wrapped it around her naked form, providing some protection against the cold rain. He carefully lifted her into his arms and shivered as his wings emerged, uncaring of the sound of them shredding the material of his shirt. He took off quickly, paranoid that Anala's current state of breathing wouldn't last. He landed in the front yard, wings enfolding into his flesh and he rushed forward. Light flooded the windows, the power running once again. The front door opened, Jasper looking at him in confusion.

"Nolan wh—"

Jasper silenced as he climbed the steps, seeing his cargo. Nolan couldn't focus on that. He entered the warm house and lowered to the floor, double-checking Anala was breathing and uninjured as he called for Carlisle. The blonde man was frozen, staring down at his sister's still form with a look of pure astonishment. Nolan looked up at him.

"Please, she just went limp—I don't know what's wrong with her."

"Oh my _god_!" Rosalie gasped as she appeared with the others. Carlisle knelt and slowly reached out to touch her, needing proof she was there. After a moment he seemed to snap into reality. Carlisle checked her over methodically, all the while Nolan looked at her face, taking in features he knew by heart. Carlisle's pale hands were gentle as he examined her. He checked her heartrate, ran his fingers over her skull and neck to check for injury. Nolan just looked at his sister, afraid to look away for even an instant.

"She's dirty," he whispered, thinking how annoyed she'd be having to wash the dirt from her long hair. He could almost picture her scrubbing at it, groaning in frustration and annoyance. After a few long, silent moments Carlisle looked to his wife. "Esme, would you take her upstairs, get her cleaned up?"

Esme was suddenly next to him, tenderly lifting Anala into her arms and disappeared upstairs, Alice and Rosalie following. Nolan just sat there on the floor, still feeling her against him. Carlisle touched his arm, wrapping long fingers around his wrist. He looked at him, into eyes of pale gold and Nolan blinked at the look in his eyes. "Nolan I am sorry. We didn't listen—"

"No, it's alright. Don't apologize." He frowned lightly. "It isn't your fault. I never held it against you." he pushed his hands into his hair and exhaled slowly. "Is she okay?"

"From what I can tell right now, yes."

Good, that was good. He exhaled in relief.

"Nolan, what _happened_?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I was walking and then I heard . . . she was just _there_," a breathless laugh escaped him. "She was there, buried in the dirt. So I pulled her out."

Nolan swallowed thickly and shut his eyes. He didn't know how or why and he didn't care. He had his twin sister back. Anala was alive and he sagged, pressing his hands against the cool floor.

_Thank you._


	6. Chapter 6

**E**mmett leaned his head against the wall and sighed, shutting his eyes. The music sounded louder than it really was in his ears and he could feel the blood cooling on his lips and chin. He looked down at the man lying on the floor. He was still breathing, Emmett was taking his time with this one. His venom was slowly beginning to infect his wound but he wasn't going to let this bastard Turn. He'd just suffer. An irritating buzz filled the air. Again. His family had been calling for hours now. This happened on occasion, they'd call when he didn't check in after too long a time. They'd leave him be if they weren't sure he'd off himself. Emmett snorted. He nudged the man on the floor next to him.

"How you feeling, Frankie?" the man gurgled and tried to roll away.

"What did you do to me?" he croaked, raising a hand to his throat as his face twisted in pain.

"Nothing you don't deserve."

"Agh!" the man groaned at the sensation of the venom beginning to burn him from the inside. Emmett looked at him as he spoke. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Bury you in the cemetery down the street from your house. It's pretty good considering all the twisted shit you've done. I saw your basement, not as welcoming as the rest of the house I have to tell you. Can't say it'll be a very fun time where you're going though." He looked to the man attempting to roll away towards his phone, or maybe his front door. "There's a special corner of Hell for people like you." _For monsters like us._ Emmett snatched his ankle and dragged him back and pulled him up to look into his frightened face. He contemplated finishing his meal but he didn't want him anymore. It wasn't that Emmett wasn't thirsty, the thirst was always there, a burn in the back of his throat that dissipated only when he fed, the blood sliding down his throat and filling his belly. But Emmett was now bored and uninterested, and he snapped his latest prey's neck quickly. The incessant buzzing picked up again and Emmett growled in annoyance.

He stood and went to the small stand next to an armchair. He was going to turn it off until he saw the name on the screen: Nolan. Emmett had not received a call from the other man since leaving. They had an unspoken agreement. Nolan understood his need to get away and never once tried to convince him otherwise or give him any sort of advice that would only serve to aggravate him further and Emmett had been eternally grateful that there was at least one person who would leave him be. If he was calling then it had to be for a reason, right? He glided his finger over the screen as sixty possible problems arranged themselves in his head and Emmett answered his phone for the first time in over six months.

"Hello?"

"Emmett." Nolan sounded strange, his voice was shaking a bit and slightly breathless. "Emmett, she's alive."

He frowned as he turned off the music. "What?"

"Anala," he said, as if "she" should have been enough description for the vampire to understand who he spoke of. "She's _alive_."

First he was confused, then angry. What the hell was he trying to pull here? Why call him out of the blue and say something like **that**? Rationality caught up to him. No, this was Nolan, he wouldn't be cruel enough to joke about his own sister like this, which only meant one thing. Nolan had finally lost it. He snapped. Emmett picked his next words carefully. He should probably call Jasper back after this. "What makes you say that?"

"_Listen_ Emmett! I know how this sounds. I don't know how, but she's _here_. I found her. Anala is alive."

Nolan sounded explicitly sure. The waver in his voice had gone and Emmett was having a hard time understanding exactly what it was Nolan was saying to him. He remembered. The rubble, her blood, cooling under piles of stone, staining the floor and rock and his hands. It had been everywhere, in other rooms, staining walls and floors, much older stains. Emmett had even found a cage, rust-colored stains all over it and the horror she and Nolan had never shared with them was beginning to piece together, if only just what he could see of it. He remembered returning home numb and fragmented. The evidence was right there, he couldn't deny it to himself like Nolan did. To think she was . . . but Emmett trusted Nolan's assurance, he always had. He had learned early on that Nolan was aware in a way that he couldn't fully understand, a lot like his sister in that sense. If Nolan said she was alive then it could be possible but—_Stop_. He couldn't find it in himself to search for doubt. It would bother him endlessly. Emmett uttered her name, something he hadn't done since that day, as it all clicked into place and formed something his mind could comprehend. Anala was alive.

"Anala . . ."

Emmett hung up the phone. She was alive. He was moving before he even thought of it, pocketing his phone, pulling his jacket back on. He caught his reflection in the hall mirror. Blood was on his lips and chin and bright red pools stared back at him. Emmett looked to the floor where Frankie's corpse lay. Right. It didn't take very long to clean up and dispose of him. A couple of blocks down, he buried the body beneath a fresh grave and doubled back to the Mercedes.

He just needed to see, he told himself. To confirm Nolan's words for himself.

**H**e hadn't thought this through. Emmett had driven though the very early morning and daytime hours and now he was driving in the middle of the night, some quickly waning twenty-five miles away from Forks, Washington, agonizing and nervous. The shock had faded some five hours ago, the numbing effect had given way to real emotion as his mind raced. He hadn't seen Anala in just under two years. _Twenty-one months, two weeks, three days._ He had gone through each day, watched as the outside world continued to turn as his own came to a grinding halt and ended, leaving a hollow shell in the aftermath. The Emmett before that had died with her. How could he return to her after what he'd done? He changed, Emmett knew, he wasn't as oblivious as people thought him to be. He had left Washington, creating a body count that was almost impressive and became less of a monster playing Human and more of a monster hunting humans, especially the ones who paraded as Monsters. He could deal with his family's reaction. He had slipped before, they knew what it was like to fight that inner fiend. Only this time, Emmett wasn't upset. He didn't regret it or feel remorse despite everything Carlisle and Esme had always tried to help them understand. He hadn't fought his beast. Anala however, had seen enough monsters to last a dozen lifetimes over and his was one he never thought she'd see. What could he tell her? Hell, how could he face her? He could barely believe she was alive let alone think of how to speak to her, to look into emerald depths and expose the evidence of his sins.

Emmett heard her heartbeat long before he reached the concealed driveway. He'd know it anywhere. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. **That** was all the proof he needed. Anala was well and truly alive. When the house came into view, Emmett wasn't sure if he were glad to see it or not. Sure, there was nostalgia and the reminder of family but there were little things that all but screamed at him. The garden around the other side of the house, it had been beautiful last he saw of it, meant to be planted in his mate's memory, but Emmett despised it. It was a body short of a grave. He wouldn't find solace in a bunch of plants, what good would it do him? He had lost her. There were the front steps, which had seemed endless upon his return that early morning, the windows he would stand before and listen to her approach and smile as she came into view. . . The forest where he had seen her last, tears in her eyes; his last memories of her. He pulled the Mercedes to a stop and sat there for a long moment just listening to the rhythmic thumping coming from upstairs, towards the back left corner of the uppermost level. His bedroom. It was so clear. The steady beating of her heart, the soft breaths. Emmett exited the car and Carlisle appeared on the lawn. His pale blonde hair was mussed slightly, tall form standing patiently. Golden eyes met his and Emmett mentally braced himself, feeling a bit like a child about to be scolded, or shunned. Carlisle approached him and smiled, eyes full of understanding and compassion.

"It's good to see you son." Emmett was pulled into his embrace and a smile tugged at his lips. He had missed his father. He wrapped his arms around him.

"You too Dad."

Once they reached the porch, Esme was fussing over him, smiling as she hugged and kissed him and fretted, checking him over as if he was susceptible to actual injury. He assured her he was fine, trying to put the mother in her at ease. Alice had barreled into him, hugging him tightly and his brothers greeted him warmly but all he could focus on was that heartbeat up above him. Emmett climbed the steps and saw Rosalie at the top of the landing. Her pink lips were set in a straight line as she looked at him and he smiled a bit.

"Hey Rosie."

Rosalie didn't say anything, just held out her hands to him. He climbed the last few steps and sighed as she hugged him tightly, wrapping his arms around her. She pulled back after a long pause and cupped his cheek, kissing his brow before soundly smacking him across the face. He looked at her, unsurprised but expecting an explanation. _That brings up memories._

"Would it have killed you to pick up your damn phone?"

He couldn't stop his retort. "Maybe." It was almost like being married to her again.

Her glare softened and she smiled. "I missed you."

He kissed her softly, brushing the golden strands of her hair with his fingers. "I missed you too."

"She's beautiful." Rosalie suddenly said as he pulled back. "She's always been but it . . ."

She trailed off but he understood. Thinking and seeing were two different things. He knew what it was like, experienced it on a daily basis at one point. Emmett knew personally. He could smell her and his inner monster took notice. Emmett turned and saw Nolan, descending the stairs to the second floor and Emmett was a bit stunned. Nolan had changed. For one he was taller. His lean body had filled out, his build more defined and his movements hinted at the power there. His hair had grown, dark hairs brushing the nape of his neck and falling around his head in an unruly mop. His lips weren't as full nor as red as his sister's and his flesh just a bit darker but he looked so much like her it hurt. That strange beauty emanated from him like it did her, one of the first things he had noticed about the siblings. Nolan pushed his hair out of his face and frost blue eyes pierced Emmett's own. The pale, wintry pools stared into Emmett, glowing against the soft honey-brown of his skin. They were different, wiser. Despite his ruffled appearance, the power behind his gaze was undoubtedly assertive. Nolan smiled, the little gold flecks in his eyes flashing in the light. Her scent mingled on his person, blending with his own. Nolan didn't say anything, just laid a hand on his arm and squeezed before continuing around him and down the stairs.

He really should have known better than to think he'd gone crazy.

Emmett moved up the stairs and saw Javan, sitting on the top step. Red eyes, a darker red than Emmett's own, watched him. Emmett hadn't seen Javan since the Newborn fight with Victoria. His brown hair and stubble contrasted attractively with his pale skin and his presence was as strange as it had been the day Emmett first met the man. It was odd seeing him again. Emmett didn't know much about him but he had always had a fascination with the other Vampire, not only was he a giant wolf but he was undeniably interesting. Javan watched him as he climbed the last steps. Her heartbeat was so much louder up here.

"You believe in miracles, Emmett?"

Emmett paused, confused by the abrupt question. Considering the situation at hand, "Yes."

Javan looked straight ahead. "I've never been sold on the whole thing," his voice lowered, talking more to himself than to Emmett. "But this wouldn't be the first time these two proved me wrong. Seems these past hundred and sixty-odd years . . . a lot of surprises."

The light in his room was on. Dimmed, but on. He could see it filter through the space in the cracked door and into the hall. It was strange. Emmett had driven across the country and walked into this house to see someone he believed he'd never lay eyes on again. He had gone up the stairs, down the hallway, but Emmett couldn't get himself to walk through his own bedroom door. It was almost laughable. He could smell her. That same damned scent he could never quite figure out, the same scent that made venom pool in his mouth and his inner demon purr as he had the urge to entomb himself in that mysterious fragrance.

_Christ, how hard is it to walk through a __**door**__?_

Gathering his nerve, Emmett pushed open the door and slipped inside, letting it shut quietly behind him. He relaxed abruptly. He couldn't help it, the room smelled like Anala, her heartbeat filled the space and his eyes drank her in. Anala lay in his bed, covers pulled up around her ribcage. Her face was angled towards the door, towards him and he mused at how small she looked in his big bed. Emmett stepped closer. Her chest rose and fell slowly as she breathed. The black locks of her hair framed her face and the pillow beneath her head. Long, sooty lashes rested on soft cheekbones and full, dark red lips brought images of smiles and kisses against them, reminding him of how soft and warm they were against his own and her light caramel flesh was flushed a bit, glowing with a soft golden hue. Life. Emmett was standing above her now, around the other side of the bed. He traced the line of her jaw with a feather-light touch. Her skin was amazingly warm. Anala was still. She didn't wake or move, not the slightest shift or reaction and that distressed him greatly yet he was overwhelmed by this moment. Anala was right here, he was _**touching**_ her. His touch pressed more firmly, he traced her lips, slid his hand along the other side of her jaw and into the silky mane of her hair, angling her face towards his. Emmett leaned over her, pressing his cheek to hers and inhaled as his heart swelled and his eyes burned.

Jasmine, honeysuckle and sandalwood with traces of lavender, blended with that indecipherable undertone of . . . _something_. That dark, subtle factor that had captivated him instantly. It was just as it had always been and he could almost pretend no time had passed. That he had gone out and Anala had fallen asleep and he had come back, checked on her like it was any other night.

Almost.

Emmett tore himself away from her, the bed. He pushed his fingers through his hair gripping it in his fingers as he turned away from her, conflicted and confused. Now that he was here, that he had looked at her, the obvious questions surfaced. What had happened?

How was she here?


	7. Chapter 7

**T**he day and night passed and Emmett had only been left with more questions and no answers. Nolan explained it to him, the earthquakes, the strange feeling he'd gotten, finding his sister naked and buried in the forest. He explained how she'd been unconscious since practically that moment. His family knew as much as he did at this point. Anala had come seemingly out of nowhere. Emmett didn't know what she remembered or didn't, didn't know what had happened to her after the day Carus took her away from them, him. In that period Emmett had enough time to catch up with everyone, but he also had time to realize that there was no reason for him being there. He couldn't throw something like this on her. He'd spent the better part of the past two years killing and enjoying it, shamelessly. He _should_ leave, let her start over away from this, all of it. Of course, thinking something and putting it into action were two very different things. He couldn't bring himself to do it, each time his mind told him the same thing. This was Anala._ His Mate_. He couldn't just leave, his inner monster wouldn't let him. But he was less than deserving to call her his. He was left with his conflict while Anala lay comatose in his bed. The following morning and afternoon continued in the same fashion as the previous. Emmett was trying to avoid his bedroom for a multitude of reasons. He ran through the woods, watched TV, anything to keep him busy enough to not go up there. Looking at her did nothing to strengthen his resolve. Nolan was up there often however, coming down for short intervals every few hours. He had only gone back upstairs for about half an hour, when the he heard the steady heartbeat shift and a frightened cry filled the air, making Emmett freeze where he stood.

**S**he was screaming, not entirely sure why she was doing so. Her awakening was sudden and disorientating and Anala was swiftly becoming afraid. She didn't understand what was happening to her. Her lungs seized, forcing her to gasp breathlessly. She hurt but she couldn't figure out why, her mind was fuzzy and unfocused, images of rain and earth assaulting her. Warm hands were touching her, cupping her face and a soothing voice was in her ear. She was shaking, but the touch was calming her enough to listen to what was being said. It was familiar, the feel of the warm fingers on her skin was almost habitual, assuring her.

"Anala?" She blinked unfocusedly, trying to make sense of what was happening, her surroundings, but still couldn't clear her head.

"It's okay, you're alright Anala, try and breath."

"Nolan?"

He was looking at her. Messy black hair fell into eyes the palest of blue. They stared into her own, shining in the low light. Anala reached out and touched him. He was solid and warm. Nolan. She was suddenly calm. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around him. Her brother was broader than she remembered him being last but she also knew he had looked a lot like this long before then. The material of his shirt was well-worn under her fingertips, she had seen him in this shirt often, one of his favorites. She closed her eyes and tightened her hold on him as she felt his heart beat against her own. _Her_ heartbeat. Nolan was saying something, his voice quiet and filled with regret. "I'm sorry."

He was repeating it, and Anala pulled back in confusion. "Why are you apologizing?"

His brows drew together and anger slipped into his voice. "I should've got you out. I was too late to save you from—". Anala shook her head, looking at him, horrorstruck. She couldn't listen to him blame himself, put an insupportable weight like that on his shoulders.

"No." She touched his face, brushing away his tears. "Nolan, no. You have done . . . _so_ much more than anyone should ever have to do." He never once questioned or complained, doing whatever he felt necessary. Her brother had fought long enough.

"**That** was my chance! We've fought for so long, I trained my entire life and waited a millennia to drive a blade though his heart. The day came that I could finally end this war and I was too late. I _lost _you. I **felt** you . . ."

"The war would have happened one way or another. There was nothing you could've done that night. You can't put this one yourself. I won't let you do that to yourself Nolan. I can't." Nolan sighed and touched her hands. He looked like he wanted to say more, a lot more, but she squirmed, suddenly noticing how full her bladder felt. Nolan released her and stood. "I'm sorry, this all must be a lot for you. Are you feeling okay?"

She nodded.

"I'll give you a few minutes. Come down when you're ready."

She pushed back the covers and slid her legs off the bed as Nolan walked out of the room. Anala swayed, suddenly dizzy. After a few moments it dispersed and she stood in the quiet. Anala was alone. She walked into the bathroom and dealt with the tension in her bladder, relieved. She splashed cool water on her face and dried off before looking at herself in the mirror. Green eyes stared back at her. She pushed her bangs away from her face and put a hand over her heart feeling the steady thump under her hand. Anala was elated to see Nolan, but she was terribly confused and a bit afraid. A shiver traveled down her spine. After a short search through the cabinet she found the unopened toothbrush that had been there for as long as she could remember it ever being in here. Anala saw she was in a soft peach cotton shirt and a pair of comfortable black shorts. She couldn't remember if they were hers or not. How did she even get here? She brushed her teeth mechanically, her mind reeling and scattered. She ended up drinking half her bodyweight from the sink faucet, parched. Anala exited the bathroom and looked around herself. This was Emmett's bedroom. His bed, large and soft, his closet she could recall his clothes hung along with various jerseys, his books and movies and . . . despite how it looked it felt empty and like it had been empty for a long time, the lived-in feel absent. She walked over to the door, the light wooden floorboards were warm beneath her bare feet, and pulled open the door.

Anala saw him immediately.

The hallway was dark and she hadn't even fully stepped out of the bedroom but her eyes caught sight of his shadowed figure quickly. At the end of the hall, on the other side of the staircase he stood. Tall and brawny and motionless. The dark blue jeans and black sweater helped him blend with the shadows but his pale neck and face glowed in the little bit of light that came from the floor below. Penetrating crimson eyes stared at her. Anala's heart jumped and she stepped into the hall completely.

"Emmett," she breathed.

Her eyes stung. He was in front of her then, staring down at her. Surprisingly warm fingers touched her cheek. They were warm, much warmer than she had ever felt them be, his flesh was as heated as hers, if not more so. The hand slipped to hold her head, long fingers against the base of her skull and neck. His thumb brushed her cheek and his burning eyes met her own.

"My god," he murmured. His voice was a soft, deep rumble that warmed her from the inside out. He was beautiful. Happiness swelled in her chest.

"You're eyes . . ." her hands reached instinctively but he was already gone. The abrupt departure had stunned Anala for a moment, her hands were still half outstretched, fingers grasping air. Her eyes scanned the hall. Why did he leave? Why were his eyes red, and not gold? She moved, walking down the staircase. The second floor was quiet and she continued downwards. There was a slight shift in her peripheral and she looked over. Carlisle was a small ways away from the staircase. The pale vampire was silent, watching her closely, and Anala smiled. "Carlisle," she spotted Javan, and Esme and Jasper and Rosalie, and Anala paused. They were all watching her, varying expressions of disbelief and wonder on their striking faces. She looked down at herself, touched her neck.

"What? What is it?"

Nolan appeared just then with Alice and Edward. Carlisle stepped towards her, stopping in front of her. He was looking at her closely, as if examining her and Anala took the time to look at him. His amber eyes picked up on her motions, his pale hair shone gold and Anala was pulled in for a hug. He was cold as ice and his sweet, crisp scent filled her nose. Hands were at her back and she turned, smiling. Rosalie. The blonde woman hugged her tightly, and Anala cried as Esme was suddenly there, eyes shining tearlessly, then Jasper and Alice and Edward. They were talking, touching her, hands smoothing her hair, arms wrapping around her and her body registered the contact but her brain stalled in forming it into something she could understand. Then Javan was there, and the hands fell away. They all moved away, leaving her and Javan at the base of the steps. The dark-haired man had been silent and as Anala looked to him, he was there in front of her, grabbing her and pulled her against him. He gripped her chin and stared into her. His eyes were fiery, and Anala reached up and touched his fingers on her skin. His hold loosened and he wrapped his arms around her. Anala smoothed her hands down his back, feeling him relax. He kissed her temple. Her cheeks. Her lips. In an instant the tenderness was dismissed and he was looking at her, gripping her shoulders and shook her firmly.

"I'm done with these fucking surprises. No more." Anala smiled slightly. She and Nolan knew this man, unpredictable and vicious but Javan was a Wolf. He was dangerous, sure, but once he decided someone was a part of his Pack it was real, he cared, no matter what it may seem and Anala understood that. She nodded and his hands slipped away.

Esme took her hand, guiding her to the sitting room.

"Are you hungry? Would you like me to make you something dear?"

Anala shook her head, smiling in thanks. "No, thank you Esme." Anala moved forward to sit in a comfortable loveseat, tucking her legs underneath herself and tried to connect the pieces in her mind. She looked out the glass wall and out to the river and trees beyond it. Nolan sat next to her and Anala looked around, a bit nervy by the stares.

"Anala what's the last thing you remember?" Nolan asked. "Before you woke up?"

She looked at her brother. She saw Emmett, his large frame in the doorway, watching her with those crimson eyes that baffled her. She didn't understand why everyone was looking at her so strangely, as if there was something she was missing. "I was in the forest, I was in the ground and I climbed out. It was raining, and you were there."

"What about before that? What do you remember?"

Before? Anala didn't like that question. There was a lot of before. Before today, before their capture, before the war. Years upon years of memory and information and emotion. It was overwhelming, the things she had forgotten, never knowing there were other ways to live from the small world they existed in of hiding and running. "Everything," she told him. "I remember everything."

Nolan shifted restlessly. "We found where Carus was—"

"Carus?" Flashes of pain and shaking walls and falling stone.

"He was dead Anala. Him, whatever demons had been there, all of them, and your blood was . . ." tears welled in Nolan's crystal blue eyes. "Anala, what _happened_ to you?"

She looked at their faces, wondering and expectant and Anala realized how confused they must be. The last time she saw them, Carus had very nearly taken her soul. "I . . ." she paused, forming the words for the first time. They tasted bitter on her tongue, sending a decidedly strange sensation through her.

"I died."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: **so I'm going to try and update twice a week from now on. I apologize in advance if a second update doesn't come every week but I promise to try and get them to you :) reviews are always welcome. Enjoy!

**E**mmett was at war with the perfect opponent. Matched evenly, to the smallest detail. They knew each other well, he and his demon. But apparently his weakness, was its strong point. Her voice had nearly unraveled him but his resolve shattered like fine china tossed through a wood chipper when he heard the door open. He moved silently as it opened. Watching. He stood in the shadows and emerald depths, ones that had haunted him, met his almost immediately. It was different looking at her, and looking at her when she could look back. Her skin had been so soft, her eyes uncannily bright and bottomless. Anala had reached for him and Emmett had lost his nerve.

Despite what he had already known there was something about hearing it aloud that made it harsher. "I died." _I died. _Anala died. This must've been what it's like when someone says they're about to be sick. Emmett had known, seen the aftermath. But her confirmation made his heart hurt. It was quiet, the silence carried heavily. Nolan was looking at his sister and she looked back at him softly. It had always seemed like Nolan was the stronger of the two but looking at them now Emmett realized that wasn't it at all. His strength came from his sister. Anala had **always** been his strength.

Nolan looked distraught.

"I should have been there," he whispered. Her hand reached out and touched his arm.

"Nolan—"

Their eyes met again and his voice hardened. "I should have been there. I should have gotten you out. That was supposed to be me."

"I wasn't going to let him take you Nolan. There was nothing you could have done."

"But there was!"

"There wasn't." she told him gently. "You didn't remember enough to face Carus and walk away alive. It would have happened anyway and I accepted that. I didn't want to be saved Nolan."

What did that mean? She didn't want to be saved? Emmett had seen that horror show in the lower level of the bastion, the blood, and the chains. The _cage_. Her uncle was a monster who wanted to control her, to commit unspeakable atrocities and she didn't want to be saved from that. _Why_? Emmett knew she couldn't have wanted that, to live as that.

"Anala?" she looked to Edward, who was frowning as he watched her. "Are you saying you wanted to die?"

The question hung in still air. Emmett felt his heart sink. Anala's brows drew together. "No! No, I didn't want to die." Her eyes dropped. "But I had to."

"I don't understand." Nolan wasn't the only one.

She hesitated, pulling her hand out of her brother's. Her heart picked up slightly, her breathing hitching a bit, disrupting the regular pattern. Something flashed across Nolan's face and Emmett frowned, taking half a step forward. Nolan's voice was quiet, but clear. "What? Anala, what is it?"

"I knew." It was like a blow to Emmett's chest.

Nolan's next words were slow, deliberate. "You _knew_ you were going to die?"

Clear tears welled in her eyes, making them shine. Anala nodded. "I knew."

She knew? She _knew_?! Anala had known she was going to . . . "how long?"

Eyes were on him but the only ones he focused on were identical pools of green, he took another step forward. "How **long**, Anala?"

Her pink tongue peeked out, wetting her lower lip. "I saw it when Iria was helping us regain our memories. It was mostly jumbled, I didn't really know what I was looking at so I didn't say anything. It wasn't until Carus that I knew for sure."

"Carus? Why Carus?" she looked to her brother, breaking the contact between them.

"He wanted my power, to control it. He'd been planning it for a long time and he originally thought he'd get us both, but I didn't let him. I couldn't." she looked out the glass doors. "There was a process he needed to do. He needed me to tap into that power, access it. I didn't know how, it isn't exactly something controllable. So he forced it. I thought it had been weeks but it must've only been a day or two until I heard them, the spirits. I was going to die. But it was a long time coming, I didn't remember but I think I always knew, somewhere inside." She wrung her hands. "I've known for a long time. I saw it four years before the last battle."

Nolan stood. "That long? You _knew_ for _that_ long Anala?! Why didn't you say anything? You should have told me!"

"Why?" she looked up at him. "So you could stop it?"

"_Yes_—!"

"There was no stopping it."

"How can you say—?"

Anala stood. "_Think_ Nolan. I was marked before birth as the Oracle. I can't control what happens and seeing your own death is unheard of. I **saw** my death, I saw that it would happen, _had_ to happen. How do you change something you have no control over? If I had told you, you would have stopped at nothing to change it."

Nolan moved quickly, he grabbed Anala and had her by the arms, eyes glaring heatedly. "Of course I would have—"

"You would have died for nothing." She looked at him. "Nolan you are the last of our line who can lead our people, who has the power that keeps our race alive. _You_ bear that mark. If I died, another oracle would have eventually come into existence and I didn't want to spend what was left of my life putting something like that on your shoulders. I didn't know we would be captured. I didn't know how or why Carus did all that he did and I didn't know when it would happen, I just knew that I would die and accepted my fate."

Nolan's expression shifted and his arms dropped slowly. "Until you forgot it."

She nodded. "Until I forgot it."

Anger churned and bubbled deep in the pit of Emmett's being. After everything, she hadn't said a fucking word. He could have helped, he could've have saved her and avoided all of it. She never said a thing. Why? Because of _Fate_? Fuck that. She didn't even give them, give _him_, the chance to try. Didn't even fight back. She knew that entire time and said . . . nothing. "That's fucking bullshit." Anala looked at him, eyes pained and Emmett ignored the tug on his heart, too angry, on the verge of going postal. "That's bullshit and you know it. You could have said something, we would have helped but you were fucking selfish, too busy being a goddamn _martyr_ to fight for your own life!"

She stepped towards him and stopped when he growled involuntarily through gritted teeth. Even to him the sound was menacing. "Emmett—"

"**Don't**."

He was going to break something. His skin was burning. Emmett turned and exited the front door in record time. As soon as he felt he'd reached a safe distance he released whatever was left of his control. He uprooted a couple dozen trees, and smashed the largest boulders he could get his hands on closest, cursing her, cursing "fate" as they split and cracked under the force of his strength. The angry roar that escaped him was accompanied by a burst of wild energy, and the trees he had mutilated ignited in flame.

**A**nala wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. She had died. She accepted it, made her peace with it. But she wasn't prepared for coming back. As a direct link to the Goddess, there was a lot she understood about the natural order, the flow of life and death and energy but she didn't know why or how she'd gotten here. Anala was half convinced she had been dropped into an alternate reality. Nolan was as he'd always been but he was also _more. _Her brother had an air about him, asserted and comfortable. Anala was happy, Nolan had always been a natural leader and it was good to see him as he was before the horrors of their past but he had changed. She couldn't say she was surprised, their situation would change anyone. There was also Emmett. The vampire was a completely different version of himself and she couldn't fathom why or how. Anala stared down at her second bowl of stew. Hunger had caught up with her and Esme had been more than happy to shove a meal at her. They were watching her again, like she was an extraterrestrial who had landed in a foreign world, theirs. She sighed.

"It's a little weird eating with all of you just sitting around watching me."

There were smiles. Rosalie was sitting next to her, playing with her hair like she had done hundreds of times before, her pale fingers ghosting through the dark strands. "It's a little weird watching you eat in our kitchen again."

She grinned. "Oh come on Rose it can't be that weird, hasn't been that long since you saw me eat, right?"

Nolan sat across her. He was watching her eat, pastel eyes wistful. "Almost two years."

Her spoon clattered against the bowl and her eyes widened. She'd been dead for almost two years? Dear God, no wonder they were looking at her like that. "That long?" she had no concept of time until today. It had felt like eternity. It had felt like instants.

Javan was next to him, posture relaxed, chin in his hand. He sat up, eyes scanning her face. "Do you remember it? Dying?"

She shook her head. "No, I mean I remember watching the ceiling cracking and falling not . . . after." She ran her finger along the rim of the bowl. "I remember coming back though. From where I was."

"Where were you?"

Black eyes came to mind. Glowing grass and endless lilies. "I don't know. It didn't feel like I was anywhere, really . . ." it was strange, Anala knew it didn't make any sense. "It was quiet," She whispered. It had been. Until that storm. "It's odd, being back here."

Almost two years later. Life had continued, of course, but returning from death put her back in the cycle, the continuation, and her mind was terribly muddled by it. Here she sat, looking at family, but she felt somewhat disconnected from her surroundings. The questions ran in an endless loop. What happened? Why was she here? How much had really changed in her absence? She took her bowl to the sink and scanned her eyes out the window. Nolan had found her out there somewhere. No reason, just . . . there. She moved onto a question she was better equipped to handle. _What now?_ For one, she wanted to soak in a hot bath, see her room. She needed some familiarity, something normal.

**H**is ire burned through him still, but Emmett was drawn back like a mosquito to a bright, electric death. For all his anger he couldn't stop himself from being amazed by it all. How did one die and return like that? He approached the house, only hearing his family. No heartbeats. He slipped into his bedroom, assaulted with Anala's scent. He couldn't stop the slight anxiety at returning to her being gone. He sat on his bed, sighing, feeling strangely weary. Where was she? His brother appeared in the doorway. Edward walked across the room and sat in his desk chair. "She went home."

Good. It was bad enough her scent was everywhere. He just had to figure out a way to get himself to leave, which was proving to be monumentally harder than he'd first thought. Edward leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Don't."

"Why?" Emmett already knew why. He'd just gotten back, it would upset Esme to leave so soon.

"That too. But that's not it. You know why."

_Please don't start._

"I won't. I can understand how you're feeling," Could he now? Edward rolled his eyes. "All I'm saying is that you can't leave yet. It'll kill you if you don't get answers."

He had a point. Edward _always_ had a point. But it wasn't doing a lot to convince him. What was he really getting at? Edward's lips quirked a bit. The telepath knew Emmett didn't beat around the bush. He thought he made a point of doing just that, just to annoy him. Judging by the look on his face, Edward was doing exactly that.

Edward's smile widened. Yup.

_You're such a dick._

Edward gave him the finger, falling back into familiar sibling habits. "Fine, ignore me then. But tell me, is that it? She's _alive_, which has to mean something, right? You don't think you should stay?"

Emmett scoffed. "Doubt it." he kicked off his shoes and reclined back on the bed. He folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. She was back because the universe wanted to torture him further. Karma. That **Bitch**. Not only that but life didn't seem to have much value anymore if Anala could just toss hers away so easily, and she didn't have faith in those she allegedly cared about. Emmett supposed it didn't really matter anymore, he had let her go. Irrationally, his anger ascended again.

"If that were true, you wouldn't have gotten angry."

Emmett looked to his brother. "Stop that."^^^^


	9. Chapter 9

**A**nala. His temptress. His Muse. Javan had lived many lifetimes but nothing had ever caught his interests like his beautiful monsters. They always seemed to be surprising him, proving to him that no matter how long he'd walked the earth there was always something new to discover. They never once bored him and Javan had come to care for them, love them even. Anala had returned from the grave, right out of the ground like a goddamn daisy. Javan expected no less from her. It made sense in some peculiar, unconceivable way. If anyone would pull it off it was Anala. He watched her as he sat on the linoleum floor of the master bathroom, leaning against the sink cabinet. She was soaking in his large tub, steam rising from the water. Her knees stuck out from the water's surface and the only sound was her breaths, heartbeat, and the soft click of his camera. Inspiration had struck and he welcomed it. She sat up, running her hand up her extended arm, spreading white suds along the soft brown of her flesh. The gentle slosh of water filled the space. He took in the graceful curve of her neck and shoulders, the wet tresses of her hair, the meditative look in her eyes. Javan lifted his camera and snapped another photo just as she shifted the slightest bit, the low light hitting her and contrasting the shadows perfectly.

Lovely.

Javan had always appreciated their daily customs and Anala's was one that he'd watch on occasion. He appreciated the calmness of it, the easy way she flowed from one task to another in preparation for the beginning or end of a day. Brushing her hair, dressing, hell, even shaving. The tiny rituals she performed with that grace woman-kind had instinctively, a different yet fitting contrast to the fluid and effortless nature of her brother. They definitely inspired some of his more interesting pieces. He could hear Nolan wandering through the house. He hadn't entered since his sister's death and Javan could hear him moving about, sliding his fingers along the walls.

"Javan?"

"Hm?"

She was hesitating. Javan moved across the floor and leaned his arms on the edge of the tub. He dipped his fingers into the warm water and watched the tendrils of hair float in the water, around her body. "Spit it out."

Bright eyes met his. "Are you alright? You were gone so suddenly I . . . I never got to say goodbye."

Un-fucking-believable. The woman returns from the dead and she's worried about his welfare from his visit to Volterra. The vampire was caught between feeling smitten and annoyed, something he felt often with her and the other one. "Are you serious?"

Anala gathered her hair and wrung it out before pushing down the drain and standing. Javan stood with her and passed her a towel, admiring her figure openly. She stepped out of the tub and looked at him. Anala was gazing straight through him and Javan tilted his head as he watched her. There was a vacancy in her eyes. He cupped her chin and observed her. "Are _you_ okay? You did just return from the dead, pet."

She pulled away, averting her eyes. "I'm fine."

"Why am I not convinced?"

Her reply was smooth and instant. "Because you're an obsessive psychopath Javan, with a narcissistic personality and an irritating habit of knowing me too well, but it's apparently alright because you're you. You are also slightly paranoid."

He smirked and kissed her brow. He picked up his camera and sat on the sink counter. "You always know just how to flatter me dear."

She dried off and dressed slowly, her eyes becoming far away again. Javan had packed up all of her things over a year ago but Nolan had asked him not to get rid of them. It was a good thing he had listened. The underwear were hers, the bra as well.

"That's my shirt."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right." He decided to let her wear it. The sight pleased him. He watched her exit the bathroom and out of his bedroom, to seek out her brother most likely.

A slight frown tugged on his lips.

_Interesting. _

**N**olan returned a few hours after dawn. Emmett was a bit surprised, thinking he would have stayed over there. Elias followed him in. He watched the man greet his siblings warmly, and they in turn. The familiarity between his family and the Vayar was clear. Nolan was quiet, but he looked happy. Calm. Emmett sat on the railing on the second floor, directly next to the wall. It was like his own little corner where he could watch ongoing activities below and think freely as he did so. Of course, his thoughts hadn't been much fancied as of late. His head was full of want and tangled, confused thoughts and ferocious rage. His fingers tightened on the wood when a shadow moved in the corner by the front door. It flickered and darkened then, Anala was there. The shadow looked untouched. He admired her involuntarily. She taunted him. Unknowingly of course, Anala never ever really knew how insane she made him, but still. The burgundy of her soft skirt and the black boots created nice accessories to her lovely legs. The swells of her full breasts were distinguishable from beneath her off-white top and the light gray cardigan she wore fell down just above the back of her knees. Emmett struggled with his rage and helpless attraction. Only Anala could piss him off to the point of implosion and make him want to rip her clothes off at the same time. That was bad.

He ignored the frantic scratching beneath the surface of his resolve.

Her eyes went to the entrance as auburn hair came into view and sharp amber eyes landed on her. Elias stopped and she smiled. "Elias."

"Goddess," he murmured softly. The vayar bowed and Anala moved over to him and made him straighten before hugging him. His arms came around her tightly. She pulled back and Elias touched her hair. "Anala. This is . . . eerie."

"Hello to you too Eli. Where's Rowan? I can barely feel him, I'm worried." Elias's eyes saddened and the house quieted. Emmett frowned. She didn't know. Carlisle entered from the den with Esme and Emmett could see by Anala's expression she had picked up on the sudden change in the mood. She looked back and forth between them, confused.

"What?"

"He died Anala," Carlisle stepped next to her. "A few weeks after you did."

Anala stared up at him for a long moment. Nolan exited the living room and she looked at him. She turned to him, looking for an explanation. Emmett told himself he didn't want to go down there, to comfort her. But she didn't seem upset as she looked to Elias. "Where is he?"

"We buried him," Carlisle told her. "His body just . . . shut down."

Anala was shaking her head, not accepting whatever Carlisle was saying. Emmett watched the each minor change in her expressions. Those overwhelming verdant eyes turned resolute. It was over. Whatever anyone said next was irrelevant. Emmett knew that look all too well, Anala had made up her mind and no one would be stopping her now.

"Where is he?"

Carlisle laid a hand on her arm and Anala suddenly flinched away, heart stuttering and her breath hitching slightly. Emmett frowned, the last time Anala had reacted like that he'd just met her, long before he knew of the strain of Carus's abuse. Anala's throat worked as she looked away. Her eyes lifted and they landed on him, sitting on the railing watching her. Emmett became angry all over again and his jaw clenched. Angry, yes, but also fascinated, longing, confused, elated. The barrage of emotions was frustrating, more so by the annoying calm creeping at the edge of his consciousness. Fucking Jasper. Her eyes lightened a bit and a smile began to form on her plump lips, fading when he didn't return the gesture. Emmett pretended that the uninvited twitch in his pants didn't happen when he looked at those lips. Lips that tasted like heat and honey and ever-tempting sin.

Anala's gaze lowered and she tilted her head towards her brother. "Will you take me?"

Nolan nodded. "Sure," he said softly.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, suddenly looking incredulous and stressed. "You _buried_ him?" she wasn't asking anyone in particular.

Emmett followed them. He told himself it _wasn't_ to make sure she'd be okay, that he wasn't interested in what effect this would have on her. He was curious, wanted to know why she was so determined to find the deceased blonde. What was wrong with him? How come when he absolutely _hated_ her, Anala was devouring him? Teasing him. Tempting him. _Driving me fucking batshit._ Emmett followed along with the others, just as curious to Anala's shift in behavior. She had taken Carlisle's words then brushed them off entirely. Nolan guided her by the hand, their connected bodies were separate but moved together, eternally attached. They moved through the trees quietly, Elias following above them like a ghost.

Emmett recalled the days before Carlisle buried his brother. The casket he hand-carved in the garage. The entirety of the guard, the Black Lotus, coming to mourn. Every moment of it had made Emmett's skin crawl. It hadn't just been Rowan who was mourned that day. He couldn't deny the patriarch had chosen a beautiful location. He had consulted with Elias, seeing as he knew the blonde best. It was a small glade, tucked between the forest and a mountain cliff that dropped steeply, revealing a view of the vast skies and mossy green earth below. It was peaceful here; the trees and grass and distant ocean. The isolation was soothing. Carlisle looked grim, he didn't want to cause Anala pain yet he probably felt it necessary. Closure or some such crap. Anala didn't become upset, wasn't rocked by the reality of Rowan's death. She walked across the grass slowly and stopped. She knelt, directly above where Rowan lay in his final resting place. Emmett frowned. She shouldn't have known where he was buried. She pressed her body to the earth and stilled. He listened. The air breezed through the trees and Anala's heartbeat and breaths slowed, as if asleep.

Dark shadows snaked along the ground soundlessly slipping along untouched blades of grass, twisting and coiling towards Anala. They gathered next to her then began growing smaller and smaller until they were gone. Emmett realized they hadn't become smaller but instead sunk lower, into the earth. He watched from where he stood at the edge of the glade, almost directly across Anala. Her eyes were shut and breaths deep and even as her brows drew together a little. Emmett firmly kept his demon in place.

_**Mine**__._

_No._

The shadows reemerged, forming a pool of black wisps and smoke. Anala's eyes slipped open and she sat up slowly. The shadows deteriorated slowly, leaving behind nothing but a pale, figure in its place. Carlisle flashed back several feet, his face twisting into one of pain and loathing. Anala shifted his head and shoulders into her lap. Rowan was mangled. His skin was bone white from beneath deep purple and black splotches that disappeared under the thin white material of his soft shirt. There was a distinct rope mark around his throat and Emmett felt a sullen heaviness in that moment. _This _was Rowan. Not the Vayar but the boy who Carlisle knew, the young man who had been unjustly murdered in cold blood. Anala touched his face, his sallow cheeks and the shadows beneath his eyes. Stroked the fine white-blonde strands of his hair. Her fingers gently unbuttoned his shirt, revealing more lifeless flesh. She smoothed her fingertips along red markings, so faded they were nearly gone. It was somehow . . . intimate. Despite the damage and pallor, Rowan was beautiful. It was odd how after being in the earth for almost two years there was no sign of decomposition.

A small smile touched her lips.


End file.
